Have you ever had a meal that you can’t stop thinking about even months later, or years? I often think very wistfully of those special meals, well, for me it is two very specific soups and one sandwich. Ha-ha! 

“The Sandwich”: Hot Honey Peach Prosciutto Sandwich from Mendocino Farms

There’s a Mendocino Farms right by my office. I love their fresh ingredients and seasonal chef creations. Two summers ago they came out with this Hot honey Peach & Prosciutto sandwich that knocked my socks off. Last summer I met the owner, he was trying to entice me to order catering from them for my office (I run food programs and so much more). I explained to him that I am in contract and tied to a budget that couldn’t accommodate their menu pricing. As a lull in the conversation presented itself, I immediately asked about “The Sandwich”! You see, it wasn’t just me that fell in love with this tantalizing dance of seasonal flavors, my colleague and I were both obsessed. They did offer a salad at one point that had some of the key elements, but it just wasn’t the same. We would occasionally mention “The Sandwich” to one another and we ‘d both get that far away, day dreamy look in our eyes,followed by a bowed head of sorrow, knowing we may never get to enjoy it again. 

This week my colleague came up to my desk and said, “It’s back!” and we laughed and talked about how often it would be appropriate to order “The Sandwich” without overdoing it and wearing out our obsession with it. He ordered one Tuesday, I had mine last night. As I opened the wrapper I thought it looked smaller than I recalled but I knew it had all the same ingredients so I was stoked! Y’all! “The Sandwich” is still very much “The Sandwich”! It is a little tough to describe but the saltiness of the prosciutto combined with the sweetness of the peaches and the zing from the honey and the crunch of the candied almonds and the peppery arugula, but honestly, the slab of fresh mozzarella is my favorite. It is so delightful I had to stop after the first bite and just relish in the moment. I snapped a pic to share because we all know the advertised pics are rarely accurate. “The Sandwich” is a flavor exploration! It’s crunchy and juicy but not too messy. Needless to say that I was very happy with my dinner choice last night. Ha ha!

Now, I would never consider myself a soup person. I rarely bother to try new soups or seek out soup options at restaurants let alone make them at home. However, there are two very special soups in my life that I will remember until my last breaths. The first being from my very first trip to Seattle in the nineties when my then-boyfriend (now ex-husband) and I went up to see what our options might be if we moved up there. I love Seattle. I had a wonderful friend from the old AOL days who lived there and he showed us around and took us to the now long gone Cafe Minnie’s on Denny Way, near the University. My friend Marc had insisted we try their creamy tomato soup. Sounded basic enough, so we went for it. The soup came with dinner rolls, too. When the soup arrived its aroma was this gorgeous mix of acidic tomato, nutty parmesan, and fresh cracked black peppercorns. When you sink your spoon into the wide bowl, it disappears under the layer of parmesan. The soup was creamy, but also had lovely small chunks of tomato, too. It was rich and unctuously perfect. Oh! The rolls? The server came back with a freshly microwaved bag of wheat dinner rolls from the grocery store and just plopped it in the center of our table. We laughed, it was perfect. When we visited again a year or so later, that soup was number one on our list. It was still so good! I believe it shut down during the second year of the ongoing covid pandemic. (We did not have digital cameras back then so I have no pictures of that glorious soup.)

And now for a legendary tale!

Many years ago my little friend group was at one of our houses near San Francisco and we were looking for dinner options nearby. It was the 1900’s, so we were perusing ye olde yellow pages (that’s in a phone book, the yellow pages were where businesses listed their information and advertisements), when we came across a Polish restaurant in the West Portal neighborhood called Old Krakow. We really didn’t know what to expect, but that night and meal was a bonding experience for our little crew. Old Krakow offered traditional Polish food that was made with love, with offerings of borscht and plenty of meat and potato dishes. I loved their pork cutlets that came with a halved, peeled, and roasted potato. The star of the show was truly something special, though, and not something you would expect to be so delighted by: Creamy mushroom soup. Yep, the humble fungi danced in a bowl of cream and herbs and truly healed us all that night. I mean it, we couldn’t stop talking about it. Though most of us lived about an hour away, we would still gather and make the drive up to the city for this simply divine soup now and then. We even tried to get the recipe from the chef one night when we closed the place and were chatting with the staff, but they only laughed and insisted it was a cherished secret. To this day if one of us mentions that soup we all get that far away look in our eyes, reminiscing our many evenings enjoying that mushroom soup.

Years later, I started a new job in January 2012 for a small candy company.  My first day on the job, my boss took me out to lunch. We pulled into this shopping area with lots of little shops and restaurants. We walked into this very small place called Bona. I had never heard of it, but she said I would like it and boy was she right! When I glanced at the menu and saw a creamy mushroom soup I had to at least try it, thinking it could still be good, but it could never be Old Krakow good. When I took the first bite of that mushroom soup, my heart sang! I was in disbelief, I just knew it was the same soup! Now this was about 45 minutes south of SF so there was no way I could have known. In fact Old Krakow had closed some years before this and we never found another Polish place. But this was THE SOUP! I asked the server and they explained that it is the same owner, same chef, same recipes! I called my friends that night after work and told them we had to go! And we did and it was like a family reunion sort of. Haha! We were reunited with our beloved soup! Bona is now gone, too. I have not yet tracked down that chef or former owner to find that soup again, but you just never know!

Yes, there are other meals that were actual meals that were memorable and dazzling in their own ways. In fact, the exact spot where I was reunited with that beloved mushroom soup at Bona, later became a lovely Italian place called Piccolo. There I had my first taste of prosciutto with cantaloupe slices, delightful! But then I had this entree of little bundles/pouches of fresh pasta filled with pear and ricotta in a light gorgonzola sauce: Transcendent! I went back a few times and only ever had those two dishes, they were that good. Now Piccolo is also gone. I was lucky to catch those two restaurants in that little shopping area years ago. I will never forget them. 

When I used to work a corporate job and traveled for work, I would often fly up to Portland Oregon, which was my favorite to visit. We had an office in Tigard, just on the outskirts of Portland proper. I would stay at the Phoenix Inn and walk across the street into the business park (Washington Square mal is across the street in the other direction, if you know the area) to the office. In that same parking lot was a Gustav’s. Gustav’s is a German restaurant, family friendly, slightly upscale but not too fancy or fussy. I would sit at the bar and enjoy a blackberry margarita while waiting for my schnitzel order to go. That margarita was so good with fresh blackberry puree and by the time I finished it my food would be ready. So I would walk back to my hotel, a little buzzed, to-go bag in one hand, Marlboro Light in the other, just blissed out as all get out. Ha-ha! Then once in my room I would sit on the second queen sized bed (I didn’t book my own rooms, I don’t know why they always gave me two queens, so I used one for food and one for sleep hahaha) and eat my Schnitzel. Now this was a flattened chicken breast flayed open, like a butterfly, if you will. They laid this gorgeous roasted/pan seared chicken on an equally gorgeously roasted portobello mushroom cap, all laid upon a generous pile of garlic mashed potatoes with big roasted cloves running through it. Every time I visited I followed that same routine, and wouldn’t change a thing. Years later I brought my husband and friends to that Gustav’s, too. There used to be 3 locations in the Portland area. They loved that margarita and the Schnitzel! Now if I mention Gustav’s they go, “Aw! Gustav’s!” in unison. It is a cherished memory.

The last meal that was memorable like this for me is somewhat bittersweet. It was December of 2019, I had just begun to take some solo vacations that fall, and this was my second. I flew into Seattle to visit a friend and check out the Pop Culture museum (formerly the Experience Music Project). After spending a whole day at the museum I wanted something special for dinner. So I cruised around Aurora Ave N in Capitol Hill near where I was staying and came across a little bistro. Now I cannot recall the name, though I am sure I could find it if I was there again, nor really even the specific dishes I had. What I do remember is that it was the end of their happy hour specials and so I ordered a bunch of small plates at a great price and sat in the corner alone in a mostly empty restaurant when it suddenly began to fill up. Each dish was so good and well thought out. The ingredients were fresh and fantastic. I know there was a salad with beets and a lovely steak dish, maybe with chimichurri, and something with a bunch of mushrooms that I delighted in. The tough part was that every time I tasted a new dish I was so blown away that it felt like such a shame to not have anyone to share it with. When I was finished and waiting for my bill, I went to use the restroom but the place was packed by then and I had to squeeze behind already squished together chairs and table configurations. It felt like it took ages, but once back at my table, I finished my cocktail, paid my bill, and walked out and down the street in sheer bliss. I love Seattle. It feels like the nineties there to me. You still see band flyers on telephone poles there. The air is heavier but in a comforting way for me. It just has good energy. I also made a friend via tinder on that same trip, we still text sometimes. Seattle has never done me wrong. I hope to visit again many times in the future. I have not traveled or been on a plane since. Thanks, covid.

Tell me about your most memorable meals or sandwiches and soups! I wanna hear your stories! Sometimes it is fun flavor combos and other times it is the company we keep that makes meals more memorable. It is such a connecting and bonding thing to experience and share. I think it is a part of who we are as a species and how we have survived. When we can let go of judgements, obligations, responsibilities, and just leave the world to be what it is, and just sit down and enjoy something special with someone. It’s magic! When we give our attention and care, and yes even love, to a dish or a moment or a place, we give ourselves the opportunity to feel all that goodness, too. How lovely?!

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog: http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.) notblueatall@notblueatall.com

What are we doing?! Hypernormalization!

First articulated in 2005 by scholar Alexei Yurchak to describe the civilian experience in Soviet Russia, hypernormalization describes life in a society where two main things are happening.

The first is people seeing that governing systems and institutions are broken. And the second is that, for reasons including a lack of effective leadership and an inability to imagine how to disrupt the status quo, people carry on with their lives as normal despite systemic dysfunction – give or take a heavy load of fear, dread, denial and dissociation.

The strongest of us are struggling. The softest of us are absolutely terrified. Every morning I wake up, and for nearly a minute, I forget about the state of the world and the horrific crimes perpetuated and committed by my country. Once my brain sort of comes online, and the weight of it all hits me, I want so desperately to go back to unconsciousness. It is all too much to bear. Yet I have to keep a roof over my head, because homelessness is now illegal in my country. I can’t make it make sense. I brush my teeth with the light off, not yet ready to look in the mirror and admit to myself that I am here, I am real, it’s all real. I hate it.  

The phrase, “the cruelty is the point” gets bandied about a lot these days but it is absolutely correct. I hate it. The current Republican party is all about “We tell you what to do, but no one gets to tell us what to do!” and you see it in every single one of their policies. It has been this way for years. I hate it. Please don’t get me wrong, though. I have no love for the so-called Democratic party who fill their pockets from the same coffers as the Republicans. We have seen a few dems stand up and get loud in opposition to the bills being pushed through, but it feels very performative and I believe that it very much is that and nothing more. I hate it.

I never thought I would live in a fascist country. I never thought I would see my country’s citizens lick boots without hesitation. I am fully aware of the history, not just the propaganda fed to me in school. I don’t have a higher education, so I had to seek out this knowledge and I am glad to have it. Knowing the truth will keep you grounded in reality when sooooo many would prefer to hide their heads in the sand and insist everything is fiiiiine! I hate it.

A moment will arrive that no one will be able to ignore. A. moment like so many others in history where we can all look back and say, “This is when we said no more!” but I have been waiting for that moment for years. I am GenX, I don’t carry a lot of hope, but it is still there. I have the heart of an activist and will almost always try to inform those who are interested. People don’t want to know, though. They don’t want to know because deep down, they already know it’s past the point of no return. 

Some think I’m doing too much by still wearing a mask to prevent the spread of covid. Some think I’m doing too much by calling and emailing my representatives about various bills and measures. We have such little power over much of our lives, what I can control, what tragedies I can prevent, I am going to do all I can to live a long and fulfilling life. For me, fulfilling means more than just “happy & healthy” because I know that health is never a choice one can make and can vanish in an instant. And these so-called representatives need to be told everyday what to do because they really don’t care about us until we make them care.

So, What are we doing?! I get up and go to work and I smile at the front desk at my colleagues and our guests and manage all of the offices that I do while just under the surface I feel like I am screaming internally constantly. I go home and change into soft and comfy clothes and space out on the couch for the evening because my brain is fucking fried by this point. I read, I listen to podcasts, I watch my cartoons and k-dramas and I try to be okay. I text with friends and support where I can. I send my brother memes or nostalgic commercials, and I try to just be okay. It is maddening.

A teammate strongly suggested that I try in-person classes on meditation. I do feel a pull towards something spiritual or grounding, but I have never been able to meditate in the traditional sense. CPTSD brain won’t allow it. I also think that individualism got us into this mess in the first place so certainly individual-based “solutions” aren’t going to get us out of it. Part of me feels the need to suffer out loud for a change, too. I’m usually of the mind that if no one can help you with a thing then there’s no point in bothering them about it (and getting gaslit by loved ones is not what I need in my life). I never want platitudes, even well intentioned ones. I know it’s too much for anyone to handle and there is no one and done answer. 

I think it can help others to vocalize what you’re feeling or dealing with, often it leads to better connection and understanding. For me, I can be a bit blunt and maybe too right to the point for some, but many have thanked me for saying what they couldn’t. It leads to great conversations and my teammates and I are closer because of it. If we don’t share our struggles we will feel more alone in this world that is already built to make us lonely. We are a species that has lasted because we are social. Capitalism pushed us to where we are now, its fall is inevitable.

It is easy to preach about community but very difficult to find and create in your own life. I have begun to talk to my neighbors more. Not like in a let’s be friends way, but I do think it is good for folks to know each other and what is normal for your neighborhood. This way when something is off it is easier to point to or support each other and approach the situation together than to just stick with a “not my problem” mentality. I am usually very much a “mind your own business” type of person, but I have neighbors that make their business everyone’s to deal with and newer neighbors who I think are an improvement to our building and want them to stay. I have thought about creating a small free pantry in our laundry room (we have old wooden lockers with missing doors that would be perfect) but I am not sure how management would take it. I like things being under the radar, ya know?

So, WTF are we doing?!?!? How are you managing the feeling of constant doom and dread these days? How do you handle your day to day life with this running in the background always? How are you protecting yourself from our government basically trying to kill us all at this point? N95/’sKN95’s help filter out pollen and air pollution as well as respiratory viruses and infections. Just saying! We can’t fight for revolution and liberation from beyond the grave, I checked. 

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog: http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.) notblueatall@notblueatall.com

What are we doing…to feel better in the moment?
(I think this will be the start of a “What are we doing?!” series.)

About two months ago I came across some random cake decorating videos in my feed and very quickly got sucked into only watching cake decorating videos. I soon realized why. It calmed my anxiety. I have dabbled in the arts of baking and cake decorating years ago and while I enjoy it sometimes, it is often very stressful. But seeing these professionals and even home bakers frost their creations and smooth them out to perfection was like someone smoothing out the rough edges of my anxiety. Piped roses and vines, ruffles and shells, perriels and edible glitter, I was so dazzled and yet calmer than I had been in months. 

I soon found myself wanting to share faves with friends but it almost felt shameful in a way, I know better, but still no one else shared my enthusiasm for the art form and so I only shared two videos with one friend, Ha-ha! I nave since scaled back my consumption of these videos but not before discovering the incredible way watching someone pipe “Happy Birthday” in full flourishing cursive, perfectly spaced out and gorgeous, makes me feel almost as satisfied as if I did it myself. I do not have the practice for these finer skills, and such a hobby is not going to fit within my already limited bandwidth. I do really enjoy them. 

A couple of weeks ago I woke up on a Saturday morning feeling pretty lousy. In general, but also just dealing with some random stomach issues lately. I wanted the comforts of childhood Saturday morning cartoons, dammit! I was looking into a favorite cartoon that they never released the last two seasons of in the US due to HBO’s constant BS changes and purges. And then I found it! For free and with no commercials on Sling tv! Summer Camp Island is a cartoon about a summer camp that seems normal to outsiders, but is actually a camp for witches and magic! It is so sweet and focuses a lot of friendships and problem solving and it’s soooooo adorable! It has lots of very famous actors (Elijah Wood, Whoopi Goldberg, Fortune Feimster, and more) and just the sweetest little animation style. I binged those last two seasons that very morning (episodes are like 12 mins). I was so happy that whole weekend because of it.

Having a chronic illness changes you. tI changes how you approach things n life, how you have to accommodate yourself because no one else will, and relearning what you are capable of on a daily fucking basis. My everyday baseline would be enough to send most folks to urgent care in desperation for answers and treatment. There is no treatment for my illness, not yet. I cannot dwell on such things, I see the world for what it is. I see my country for what it is, So I must do all I can to support myself everyday and do all I can to feel better even if it is only in small doses.

I give myself permission to skip a meal when my appetite disappears and permission to indulge when the desire strikes me. I am realizing more and more that peppers of any kind make my tummy very unhappy and that sucks. Not that I’m a heat seeker, but I love flavor! Time to stock up my spices for sure. I use music a lot to lift my moods. I’m building a playlist of guaranteed to get me moving songs, hit me with your recommendations in the comments, please. 

I just bought six books and am already working my way through these two: Weight and Wisdom: Reflections on Decades of Working for Body Liberation, and Everything is Tuberculosis. It is wonderful reading the history and stories of fat activism and liberation work in Weight & Wisdom. Did you know that the Adirondack chair was invented to help tuberculosis patients dry out their lungs by allowing them to sit at the perfect angle? I highly recommend using Book Shop for your book needs. Going back to physical books has helped me get back into the habit. 

What do you do for yourself when you need to feel better? What other self soothing techniques do you use? What spices should I try? What is grabbing your attention these days? I’m watching the second season of Andor (Star Wars series that precedes the movie Rogue One) and the parallels to modern day US fascism leaves me quite rattled at times. It’s so good though. I try to watch Simpsons or Bob’s Burgers after to cleanse my palate, so to speak. Ha! 

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog: http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.) notblueatall@notblueatall.com

After years of frustration, trying to date and stay covid safe, and then reading a few articles about how these apps work, data privacy and more…I’m done! I just can’t be fucking bothered to care anymore. I kept them for so long, I think, to prove that I’m “trying” and haven’t “given up” or become “bitter.” Now I say fuck all of that! They are gaming us all and it’s a giant fucking joke that I am choosing to no longer be a part of. 

I never had a hard time dating before covid, like, ever. Sure, I’ve had the usual ups and downs of single life and relationships, but getting dates was just a thing I took for granted. Even after everything moved to the apps, I was in it to win it and did just fine that way for years. When covid happened I was fresh out of a short relationship that had made me realize that I had better standards than I used to and wouldn’t settle for the bullshit being thrown my way. I relished in my solitude, and `I still had my puggo then. Things were weird, but I can handle weird. I even found another brief relationship in 2022, but that one was a wake up call. I had had too many great first dates that quickly turned into love bombing. Like, expressions and demands of exclusion on date 1, exclamations of love on date 2. Yikes!

And then everyone collectively decided they no longer cared about the life risks of covid and carried on as if it never existed. Being of sound mind, I could not go along with the crowd or even gaslight myself into beliving anything had changed with covid because it still fucking hasn’t, it is in fact worse now than ever (and I don’t give a shit if you believe me, the data doesn’t lie). I started matching with people who seemed perfect on paper, but suddenly no one could offer more than a few consecutive, “Hi, how’s your day?” not even bothering to respond when I reply asking the same or new questions. I couldn’t understand it. Why match and message if you’re not interested in actually meeting up ever? Or they would say initially that they were covid safe, or even lie about specifics, only to then admit they lied and aren’t safe or caring at all about anything. 

This past weekend was another such person, though they didn’t start with lying, they immediately admitted that they no longer mask around others. I replied, “It’s never too late to start again!” and we talked for a few days on the app to measure compatibility, and on paper everything seemed right. We set up a date and then I got there and they flaked. Claimed some emergency that I knew was a lie and then unmatched me later on. So what the fuck is the point?!??! 

I’m convinced that no one is actually dating and we’re all just participating in this app nonsense and becoming miserable from it. Then I read an article about Hinge’s new terms of service and immediately deleted my account. In doing so and having to jump through the dark design hoops of these fucking things, “Are you sure you want to delete? Are you sure you’re sure? Really and truly and honestly sure?” I grew angry and realized that they are all the same with just slightly different wording and features. They are all based on the same algorithmic futility of everything online these days. I’m sick of it!

I dated the old school way in the 90’s. Never had a problem. I dated through AOL chat rooms back in the day, quite successfully. But these apps are not actually made for dating, only the endless illusion of a possibility of maybe getting a date, but it isn’t likely. I have met people and had relationships through the apps years ago, but something changed during that first year of covid that seems irreversible now. While the nihilist in me thinks it’s directly correlated to a mass disease that damages the brain and other organs and thus our collective empathy and cognitive abilities have greatly decreased. But can that really be it? Like, I genuinely wanna know but also I feel like, deep down, western society as a whole is in the shitter right now. 

Nope, it’s the apps. It is really the apps, it has made us all feel as though we must keep our options open when the reality is there are no options when everyone is keeping things open like this, constantly wondering if they can do or find better. They have made it so that dopamine hit from getting a match is enough to keep us in their game, but we get nothing out of it but that moment. I had inboxes full of matches on all of the apps, and I really had ALL of them, but no one could hold a conversation. So it’s futile. 

That last date flaking made me so mad because I had the tiniest glimmer of hope that I never truly asked for, only to have it dashed so pathetically. What really is the point?! Dates flaking has become the norm. I hate it. People ghosting is the norm. I hate it. People are fucking cowards. I hate it. I would rather someone tell me they are no longer feeling it or simply changed their mind. No worries, I get that. But the endless lies I have no tolerance for in my life. None. When you lie to someone you are revoking their ability to have an authentic reaction or experience in their life and your own, so what is the fucking point?! 

Covid is having the worst and longest wave we have seen since 2020. No, you won’t likely see much about it covered in any media because that is what media is now, nothing important and mostly propaganda to keep us distracted. In my area alone it has been up 395% for the last 4 weeks with no signs of it waning soon. I don’t go out much as it is, but less so during these big surges. So unless someone approaches me at work, the parking lot at work, or my apartment’s parking lot, there’s really no chance of me meeting any prospects now. The apps were my only way to meet other singles in my area. 

I am happy alone. I love my solitude. It allows me to be and feel things as I would naturally without the usual filter of others preferences or input or obligations or questions. I would like to share my life with someone, but it takes two to tango and I can’t magically conjure someone out of thin air. This isn’t some, “Oh the poor fat girl has low self esteem” issue. After that flaked date I got home and looked in the mirror aghast at how gorgeous I looked. For what?! To buy a lukewarm iced latte and sit in a horrifically uncomfortable chair only to find out they flaked and drive home?! No thank you! I mean it truly is a shame that with what I have to offer, and it’s a lot, that there really isn’t a platform or place or way to connect with people who are genuinely interested.

There’s gotta be a better way, right? When the person of my dreams is likely sitting at home feeling all of these same things, and there’s no way for us to connect… I guess we all just die alone wondering what if. I know there are in person events around the country in big cities growing in popularity, but they are mostly for under 40’s and typically very hetero-normative and very not covid safe. I’m not willing to risk my life for a possibility at a chance at maybe meeting someone in person like that. My long cpvid symptoms are finally giving me some reprieve, but I am still struggling. And I know that I wouldn’t be compatible with someone who isn’t as safe as me, it really is an ethical and moral issue for me. I want someone to have my back in the revolution, not lie about shit. 

So that’s it. 

The next soul who dares to pitch woo in my direction better be ready to write some fucking sonnets! Because my peace will henceforth be my top priority!  

(I am also seriously considering killing this blog at the end of the year. I don’t know that the archives would be of any interest or value to anyone. We have lost a lot of such content in recent years from our fat community and blogs of yore. It doesn’t seem that this blog is visited often enough that anyone would notice, though. I mean, I write for myself so it’s neither here nor there to me other than the annual expense.)

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog: http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same shared content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.) notblueatall@notblueatall.com

Oh, My Love,

I see you holding it all in, doing your best to keep it all together, to not trouble a soul with your needs or existence. So much taken away, yet you persist and try each day. The struggle seems impossible but you do not give up. Such strength, such determination! I see you hoping and dreaming, even in the midst of the world crumbling before your very eyes. I see you give and pour yourself into who and what little you have left to connect with and hold onto. It doesn’t matter if they don’t see or care. You wanting to do it is enough. Others refusal to see or care is not your cross to bear. For yours is a life of depth and love, regardless of any type of romance. I love you and I am sorry that you must continue on, on your own, always.


Love,
Me